clouji

[clouji]

Folded

+ ex!hamzah x reader, complicated feelings, making out.

You were just grabbing your lip balm off the table while Hamzah was in the kitchen, looking for more snacks. His phone was face-up, unlocked, and the texts lit up like they were begging to be read.

You didn’t mean to look. You really didn’t. But there it was.

Some girl, saved under a name you never seen before. As you scroll, all you see are flirts and inside jokes . One of them ending with, “I’m still mad you didn’t stay last time :( I miss you.”

It hit like a punch in the face.

When he came back into the room, you were already holding the phone, standing there stiff. It unraveled fast after that, a mix of accusations and raised voices. You didn’t let him talk. You didn’t want to hear whatever explanation he was scrambling to come up with.

You were furious. But more than that, you were hurt.

So you left. Slammed the door behind you and told yourself you were done with him.

He keeps blowing up your phone but you texted him that you need space and time to think, which he did give you. A few days passed. No texts. No calls. Just silence. And it killed you. You kept drafting messages in your Notes app, rewriting the same sentence ten different ways.

Then finally, you sent it. Just five words.

“Come pick up your hoodie.”

You thought it was a stupid excuse, but you didn’t expect him to actually reply.

Few hours later, You didn’t expect him to show up.

You shouldn’t have opened the door. You tell yourself that as soon as you see him— wearing wrinkly white shirt, black sweatpants, tired eyes hiding behind his glasses, standing like he doesn’t belong here anymore.

He doesn’t.

But he still looks like home, and that’s the crazy part.

“My hoodie?” he asks right away like this is just a casual errand, like he didn’t tear something out of you and leave it unfinished.

You say nothing. Just turn and walk back inside, grabbing the folded hoodie off the arm of the couch. Hold it out like it’s nothing, even though it still smells like something you haven’t let go of.

He takes it, slow. His fingers brush yours.

“Damn,” he laughs awkwardly. “You’re not even gonna let me in?”

You hesitate, then wave him in with a sigh that says don’t make this more than it is.

He enters like muscle memory. Like this place still remembers him.

You sit on opposite ends of the couch, and the silence between you stretches like a wound.

He picks at a loose string on the hoodie in his lap. You cross your arms. You don’t know why you let him sit down. Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was weakness.

“Alright,” he breaks the silence “I’m glad to see you’re doing well. I missed you so much, but if you’re not ready to talk about it I guess I’ll—”

Then his phone buzzes. Not once but twice.

“That’s her?”

Hamzah freezes. “What?”

“That girl you’ve been texting,” you spit, “Did she tell you to come get your shit too?”

He looks at you like you’ve slapped him. “Are you serious right now?”

You just stare. Your throat’s tight, but you won’t let him see that.

“Didn’t take you long, huh? Already found someone else to fold into.”

“Hey don’t say that,” he snaps, hoodie balled in his fist now. “Don’t act like I did something wrong when you didn’t even give me a fucking chance to explain.”

You blink. “Explain what, Hamzah? Seeing those texts was already enough—”

“Sounds like you didn’t read the whole thing. She was talking about her stupid party!” he raises his voice, not in anger.. in frustration. “How many times do I need to tell you that she’s my friend? I guess you never trusted me enough to even believe it. You just… left.”

You want to fight back. You want to scream.

But mostly, you just want to kiss or hug him and pretend none of this ever happened.

“Well, you didn’t fight for me either,” you say, voice cracking at the edges. “You let me walk away.”

“Because you were already out the door,” he says quietly. “I didn’t know what to do. I got scared, you shut down and froze me out. Like I never meant anything.”

“You did mean something,” you whisper. “You still do.”

The silence hangs heavy between you, the air thick with tension and unsaid words. You both want this, even if it hurts.

Then he moves closer to you. You already know what is about to happen.

Your backs slam into the edge of the couch as he kisses you like he’s punishing you for every minute apart. His tongue slides into your mouth like it owns the place. Like it’s been waiting to come home. And maybe it has.

His shirt already sliding off before you even realize your hands are moving, tugging at the fabric like they have a mind of their own. His palms are already sliding beneath your shirt, hot and hungry, like he’s relearning the curve of your skin.

His phone buzzes again. He looks at it this time, then looks at you.

You pull away, bitterness curling on your tongue. You’re over this, over the fights, the not knowing if it’s worth it anymore.

“Get out,” you say.

“Y/N—”

“No. Please just go.”

He grabs the hoodie and holds your gaze for a second too long. Like maybe he wants to say I miss you, or I’m sorry.

But silence wins.

He turns. The door clicks shut.

And suddenly you’re sobbing—hands shaking, chest aching, like the silence he left behind is the only thing you have left. And maybe it is. Because you still want him. God, you still fucking want him.

[clouji]

Not like a Date

+ hamzah x reader, one shot

You’re sitting alone in a coffee shop, crying over some guy who wasted your time.

You couldn’t even tell your friends about it, not even your best friend Mandy, who had been saying she had a bad feeling about the guy you were talking to. I guess she was right after all.

With mascara smudged and your fists clenched, you couldn’t believe you’d been ghosted after seven weeks of dates, shared music playlists, and late-night FaceTime calls.

“Fuck, I’m so stupid,” you whisper, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“You’re not.”

You flinch, then look up and it’s Hamzah. Nice, out of all people.

You’re not even close to him. You only ever see him when Mandy invites you or Martin brings him along. He’s more their friend than yours, so this is… unexpected.

He’s standing there, wearing a simple black zip up jacket, with two drinks in his hand and a small wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Oh,” you say, trying to cover your face. “Hey.”

He places one drink in front of you. “Hope this makes you feel better.”

“How do you know I like Matcha?”

“You complained about it once when Mandy gave you Caramel Macchiato by mistake.” He smiles and sits. “So… who do I fight?”

You laugh, sigh shakily and sound completely broken. “Some guy from Hinge.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Public enemy number one for sure.”

You never really talked to Hamzah before, only jokes and exchanging eye contact. You always thought he was loud and fun friend. But now, sitting across from you, he is something different. More calm and quiet.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks. Not like a date, just somewhere that is not crowded.”

You just nod as you follow him out of the place.

He takes you to a Park.

The big city opens up in front of you, glowing in the sunset. Everything just feels soft and healing.

“I come here whenever I need to clear my mind,” Hamzah explains, removing his jacket. “Thought maybe it could help you too.”

Both of you sit there for a time. There is no small talk, and no pressure to say anything funny or stupid.

“Thank you.”

He turns slightly toward you. “For what?”

“For today. For not making it awkward. For not asking me to smile or assuring that I’d meet someone better.”

Hamzah nods, as if it’s nothing, as if this is just what he does. But then he gives you a genuine, quiet smile.

“Anytime,” he responds. “You know, you’re actually really chill when you’re not crying like a baby.” You slightly bump his shoulder. He gives you a bigger smile.

Later, he drives you home.

Outside your apartment, he rests his hands on the wheel.

“Text me when you’re inside, yeah?”

You give him a smirk. “Look at you, being all concerned.”

“I’ve always been. Just never had a reason to be, with you.”

You smile. A real one.

“Hey, Hamzah?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you again, seriously.”

He nods once, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

He sent you a text late at night,

“If you ever wanna cry again in a better coffee shop, I know one place that sells good cookie like the same size of your big ass head lol.”

You laughed and liked the message.

Note: ngl reading this with the song I attached made it 10x better… got me smiling and shit

[clouji]

No Note Today? pt 2

+ barista!reader x hamzah, pt 1

You did not sleep last night. Not properly. Just replayed his words in your head a hundred times.

“No note today?”

“I even kept a few.”

He kept them. Kept your in tiny, stupid notes you drew on the side of a cup while trying not to laugh like a kid. Now you're here, marker in hand, your heart pounding against your ribs as if it's trying to escape.

“Hey Y/N,” Chase said, snapping his fingers in front of your face as you finished steaming your latte. “Are you still here or are you writing wedding vows in your head?”

You softly bumped him with your hip. “I hate you.”

“That's fair.” He took the drink from your hands and called out the name.

“But, seriously. What if he does text you?” Whispered to you as the customer accepted it.

You paused. A smile spread across your face.

“I don't know Chase, but I'm just really nervous today.”

Until the door opened.

You looked up. And your entire body, face, and hands froze like a mannequin.

Hamzah.

.......But with a girl?

She wasn't even that close to him. She wasn't clinging, holding his hand, or acting cheesy like in the movies. She was right next to him. Close enough to talk to him quietly. Close enough to be laughing with him as if she knew him well.

Close enough to make your stomach drop.

“Y/N?” Chase's voice broke through the noise. “Calm down, girl. You are staring too hard. Holding that cup like you were planning to murder someone.”

You blinked and glanced at the empty cup. Not a single note. There was no number. There's nothing but an empty space where all your bravery once was at that time.

“I’m not writing it.”

“What?”

You toss the marker in the pen jar. “I said I'm not writing it.” Chase looked at you as if you cancelled Christmas Eve.

“Girl– see, this is where you're starting to piss me off."

“Not right now, Chase.”

The moment you saw them, you completely shut down. There was no way you were taking that order. Thank God Chase stepped in.

You handed the cup off with your best fake smile, heart pounding in your chest, and voice a little too bright when you called out,

“TWO Medium vanilla lattes for Hamzah!”

He walked up alone, smiling. She walked out near the door, answering a call from her phone, and you saw it when he looked at the cup. His eyebrows twitched slightly.

No teasing. No soft smile. Just a slight nod. A quiet thank you. And then he gave his other drink to her, did their goodbyes and he walked back to his usual seat, alone.

Chase threw a marker at you. Giving you a look, as if you should do something. But you couldn't. You could not even look at him.

You distracted yourself with cups. Anything that didn't need thinking or feeling. You felt it anyway. Every second he spends sitting there. Every time, your eyes moved over before you could catch them. Every time when she walked over to show him something on her phone, she leaned in a bit too close.

You hated how much it bothered you, you thought to yourself, this is just a happy crush.

He stood up and walked over, and you were trying to prepare yourself for what you were about to do.

He stopped at the counter, coffee in hand, and looked at the empty cup your holding. Then he looked up at you.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You forced a smile. “Hey.”

He held the cup up slightly. “No note again?” Your mouth twitched.

“Oh. Yeah sorry, just busy right now.” You tried to play it off while nervously dusting off imaginary crumbs, avoiding eye contact like your life depended on it.

He looked at you as if he did not believe you. “You sure?”

You nodded too quickly.

“Yup. Nothing wrong. At all.”

He stayed silent for a second. Then, without looking back, he said,

“Do you want to know who she is?”

“What?”

He cracked a grin. “The girl I came in with.”

You didn't respond.

You don’t know how.

“She's my cousin.” he said nonchalantly, as if it weren't the most deep relief you'd ever heard.

“She just moved to the city. I was showing her around.”

He tilted his head, eyes soft. “You really thought I’d bring a date here?”

“I don't know!” you panicked. “You're cute and I don't know anything about you, and you drink about 3-5 coffees almost every week! Maybe you're emotionally unavailable or something!”

He laughed—really laughed, and your cheeks turned hot.

“I am emotionally available,” he said, putting down the cup. “Especially for the barista who puts love notes in my cup.”

Your jaw dropped like you were offended or something, “Hey–they weren’t love notes!”

“They felt like it,” he said, leaning in a little.

“They made me stay. Made me wonder. Made me wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“You.”

He smiled again, gently tapping the cup. “What time do you get off work?”

You gave a blink. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh-I get off at 5. Why you asked?" You crossed your arms.

He turned to leave, walking backwards towards the door, with his eyes locked on you.

“I'll come back at 5 then. See you.”

You stood there unable to move and shocked your stomach doing flips. Chase popped up behind you, eyes out and lips opened.

“You better not fumble that.”

You grabbed the pen with shaky fingers and wrote your phone number on a sticky note. You ran out the door to catch him.

“Don't be late!”

Note: just felt like I had to write a part 2. This one’s my favorite.

[clouji]

Shotgunning

+ hamzah x reader, making out, one shot

Loud music and drunk people everywhere..... it wasn’t really your type of scene. But your best friend Mandy begged you to come, and you didn’t want her to be alone, so you said yes.

You were already two drinks in, standing alone on the balcony as the party inside remained colorful. You've been here for a while, drumming your fingers in your red cup. You weren't drunk, a bit buzzed. Mostly, you were bored.

The door behind you slipped open. You looked around and saw a tall man walk out. He's fixing his hair and holding a vape. He looked at you, gave a slight nod, and then rested against the balcony railing a few steps away.

You watched him take a hit and blew out the smoke slowly.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” he said, not even looking at you.

You laughed a little. “I don’t really like parties.”

"Same,” he said.

It was quiet for a few moment. He kept vaping. You kept looking at him and the city lights in the distance.

“What kind of vape is that?” you randomly asked, just to break the silence.

“Geek bar. Miami Mint,” he said. Then he looked over you. “You want?”

You looked at the vape, then at him. You had never tried before. But something about him made you feel like… why not?

“I’ve never vape before.... but sure.”

He smiled and stepped a bit closer. “Okay, just think of it like you’re sipping from a straw. Don’t go too hard or else you’ll cough.”

You did what he said, but oh well… you coughed. A lot, actually. He laughed softly.

“Yeah,” you said, voice raspy, “fuck- that was so bad.”

“It was your first time so it's understandable.” he said laughing,

Silence fills the space, those long lashes, the curve of his nose, those curls you wish you could touch. You glance away, but it’s too late.

He passes you his vape again like it’s nothing. You’ve inhaled it enough times now that coughing doesn’t even happen anymore.

“Wanna try something different?”

You gave him a look. “Like what?”

“It’s called shotgunning,” he said. “I take a hit and blow the smoke into your mouth. You just let it happen.”

You look at him confused, “Like… a smoke kiss?”

“Yeah, I guess” he said, “Wanna try?”

You looked at him. His cute smirk, the way he was already kinda leaning in so you just nodded.

“Fuck it,” you said.

He leaned closer and exhaled smoke through your parted lips. It was minty and sweet. You closed your eyes for a second, and when you opened them, he was still there, watching you softly.

“Not bad, right?”

You nodded. “Not bad.”

He looked at your lips, then back at your eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

You froze. You barely knew him. You don't even know his name.

I mean, he's cute... and there was something about the moment... the quiet balcony, the lingering taste of mint that dragged you in.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You can.”

He kissed you. Gentle at first, then deeper as you lean in. His lips were warm, hand wrapped around your hip, pulling you in like he was starving for you. Which made you forgot about the party for a second. You forgot about everything.

“There you are!”

You pushed him away as Mandy stepped onto the balcony, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We’re leaving.”

You looked at her, lips still tingling.

The guy stepped back slightly, clearing his throat.

Mandy gave him a side eye, then looked at you. “Oh?” she mouthed.

You ignored her, turning back to him. “I’m y/n, What’s your name?”

“Hamzah,” he said with a smile.

“Well....” he said, scratching his lips, “if you ever wanna hang out again, I mean outside of the party. I'm down.” He handed you his phone and waited for you to put your number in.

You smiled, already backing toward the door. “Maybe I will.”

Hamzah waved at you with his vape, “I’ll text you later.”

You waved back, heart still pounding, and followed Mandy out into the noise of the house.

“Okay what the hell was that!” she asked loudly once you were outside while waiting for the ride.

You giggled as adrenaline rushed through your body. “Just tried something new.”

[clouji]

Did you see on the new ooc episode Hamzah said how he smoked the rest of the joint from the 4/20 special and it just reminded me of what you wrote 😭😭 ily btw 😚

Yessss I just watched it today lolol 😆 this made me giggle ily

[clouji]

Unhinged

+ hamzah x reader, one sided feelings, angst, one shot.

You and Hamzah said it from the start. No labels, No feelings, Just having fun with each other.

But somehow, something changed. There were invisible strings between you, pulling you closer in ways you didn’t expect. Maybe he played you. Or maybe… you played yourself.

Hamzah knew your apartment like it was his own. He'd show up, stay just long enough to satisfy your needs, and then leave you needing more. He had that smile, like he was holding onto some secret. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. And every time things started to feel too real, he’d leave. Just like that.

You told yourself you were fine with it. That you were fine with this being casual.

But you kept waiting for him to come back, even when you knew exactly how it would go.

He’d walk in like nothing happened. Sit on your couch, your bed, play with your guitar like he was trying to show off, but you both knew it wasn’t really about that. It was his way of keeping a wall between you, even as he pulled you closer.

You’d laugh, flirt, act like everything was fine. Like the tension wasn’t growing between you. Like you weren’t both wanting for something more. You were both pretending.

Pretending you didn’t feel it.

Pretending you didn’t want something real.

But you couldn’t pretend forever.

Something inside you changed after the last time he left. That strange feeling stayed with you long after he was gone. You started wondering if you’d gone too far without meaning to. And one night, after too many drinks, the words just came out.

“Do you ever think about us?” you asked. “Not just this… What if we actually try for something real?” Your voice cracked. Each word felt harder to say.

“I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel anything.”

It was quiet after that. Too quiet.

Hamzah laughed. But it wasn’t real. It was the kind of laugh people give when they don’t know what else to do. His eyes looked away, and that smile you loved so much felt cold.

“You know I don’t do the whole relationship thing,” he said.

You nodded like it didn’t hurt. Like you understood. Everything felt unhinged, and the worst part was, you still wanted him.

And here you were again.

Another night.

Another kiss that wasn’t enough.

The heat between you burned hotter than you expected. Your craving for him was almost unbearable. His touch was rough, desperate, pulling you in—and all you could think was how badly you needed more.

“I wasn’t supposed to care this much,” you thought, but you didn’t say it out loud.

You didn’t have to. It’s there, in the silence. Always has been.

He pulled back, just a little, his breath warm on your skin. In his eyes, you saw it again. That same look he always gave you, like he was afraid to feel.

“I didn’t want to care. But now I can’t stop thinking about you. And I hate it.”

You didn’t know what to say.

So you kissed him again.

Because sometimes, it’s easier to pretend everything’s fine when you know it’s the last time you’ll ever see him.

Note: got lil motivation to write inspired by the song I attached so I recommend listening to it

[clouji]

random texts with hamzah

+ bf!hamzah x reader, fluff, crack, (first time doing these fake texts plz be nice 💟)

[clouji]

Fortnite

+ hamzah x streamer!reader, fortnite, fluff

You haven't streamed in a long time, so you're excited to play Fortnite and talk to all of your viewers. You have been queuing up for duos, but they're all bunz so far.

"Alright, chat," you shout, moving toward your microphone. "Let me see what random I get. Pray we get someone hot and cracked this time. Or someone whose microphone does not sound like it's been microwaved."

> imsogoated: manifesting a soulmate

> enhatt: im so happy ur streaming again y/n

> bananasummer: girl if he’s hot u better flirt!!!!

The loading screen fades. The lobby pops up. A name, Superspreader77, with a voice that breaks through, nonchalant and a bit raspy.

“Hello, Do you got a mic?”

You turned to the camera, covering your mouth. “Oh shit chat.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hi!!”

He laughs quietly and proudly. "Why, do I sound sexy?"

You choke on your drink. “No you sound like a loser.”

“Ouch.”

“Also you sound cocky and weird.”

“And you sound like a tryhard.”

You pause. "Okay, yeah so what.”

You marked Seaport City and dropped with your duo together. Both of you are still teasing each other.

He steals your holo twist gun. You hit him with a bat in revenge. He saves you from a third party and wants you to say Thank you. Instead, you say

"Fuck yourself."

He chuckles as if it's the funniest thing he heard all day.

"You're kinda mean," he says.

"You're kinda enjoying it."

"Maybe."

In middle of stream, the chat loses its mind.

> bananasummer: CAN U ASK IF HES HAMZAH PLS

> jj771: no bc that’s actually his voice omg

> 1234pop: THAT’S HAMZAH FROM SLUSHYNOOBZ WTF

> destiny: HAMZAH??

You took out your phone for a second to check what the chat was about, and then you searched for the name they were mentioning. You have mutuals, you saw what he looks like, and you nodded as you think he is.... cute.

You squint your eyes. "Hey… superspreader"

"Yeah?"

"My chat thinks you sound familiar."

"Oh?"

"They're saying you sound like Hamzah? from Slushynoobz."

Silence.

“Never heard of them. Is he cute?”

“Stop fucking around.”

“You think I’m Hamzah? Wow I'm so flattered.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Do you think I’m him?” He repeated the question.

"I think you're a liar with surprisingly good aim."

He sighed. "Damn. You got me. You're scary."

"Woah so you're Hamzah... I've been roasting you for twenty minutes. Your fans might attack me."

He laughs. "Don't worry I'll protect you."

You cringed. “Ew. You like me don't you.”

“Hell nah, I'm interested in someone else already sorry,” he says smoothly. “And she keeps stealing my loot like look–right now.”

You won the match. Because of him. Both of you are stressing and laughing.

Then—he adds you.

No hesitation.

“Nice game,” he says. “Let's play again tomorrow?”

When a friend request shows up. You mute your microphone for a second just to scream then you click accept.

“Yeah. But next time, I’m stealing all of your loots and kills.”

He laughs. “Deal. As long as I get to play with you.”

You check chat.

> imsogoated: I’M CLIPPING THIS

> jj771: my two worlds colliding

> bananasummer: He's your dsstiny

You lean into your mic. “Chat. CHILL. It’s just one game.”

Hamzah’s voice cuts in: “ Well, you're never getting rid of me now.”

“I don't mind that actually.”

[clouji]

Don't get high with Hamzah. He will strip you naked.

+ fwb!hamzah x reader, smoking weed, drinking, making out

“Y/N why is this couch shaped like a L but feels like a circle?”Martin laughs as he sits across two pillows, a beer in one hand and his socks half-off.

Hamzah breathes from the opposite end, a vape pen attached to his fingertips. “That's how you know it's a good living room. Everyone ends up touching their knees, no matter they like it or not.”

You laughed, sitting crossed legs on the floor, back against the couch, sipping just juice with a splash of vodka. Claire texting between sips of her drink. Mandy is next to her, wrapped up with Martin like a cat.

And of course, Chase is in the kitchen arguing with the air fryer.

“I'm still laughing about what Hamzah and I did few days ago,” Martin says, chuckling.

Mandy answers. “What happened?.”

Hamzah just grins, eyes low. He already knows where this is going.

Martin jabs a finger toward him. “All I gotta say is, Don't get high with Hamzah. He will strip you naked.”

Everyone laughs.

Even Claire drops her phone. “I knew something happened!”

“Bro you're making it sound weird,” Hamzah says, without even denying it.

“It's not my fault people like Martin can't handle my aura.”

You keep your face blank. Sips your drink.

You shouldn't be thinking on what happened that night. Or every other night. Or the times it didn’t even need weed. Just one look, a single touch of his hand when no one was looking.

Martin’s still talking. Something about how he ended up in just his boxers watching Love Island with Mandy at 2am. Everyone’s laughing.

Except you.

And Hamzah.

You felt his eyes on you–quick, tense, and gone like it had never happened.

You knew it too well. The kind of knowing that burned under skin and behind closed doors.

⏭️

Everyone's about to leave. Claire and Mandy saying their goodbyes to the cats. Martin drags Chase out of the kitchen, still mid-rant about his overcooked fries. Hamzah stayed like he's just the helpful friend staying to clean up.

Which he is...... kind of.

Hamzah throws a pillow back onto the couch and kicks his feet up as if the party had never stopped.

“Wanna see something crazy?” he says.

You raise a brow. “If that's some stupid shit Hamzah, You're leaving.”

He smiled, reaching something on his pocket and pulling out a half-used joint in a crusty Altoids tin. "Look what Martin and I didn't finish."

You laugh. “So you just have it with you the whole time and didn't say anything?.”

“But I wanted to smoke with you,” he says, “so let's finish it.”

You roll your eyes, but take a hit when he hands it to you. The smoke is nice and warm, quickly taking into your body. He's already leaning back and exhaling like if it's some kind of spiritual experience.

“You really stripped that man on 4/20?” you ask, laughing.

Hamzah chuckles. “He said he was hot. I said prove it."

“Dumbass.”

He smiles at you, lazy. “You scared I’ll try it on you?”

You start to cough a little. "I am not scared. You'd have to earn it."

“Oh word?” he says, puts down the joint into a nearby cup.

And then he moves closer.

Not too much. Just enough, his leg brushing yours, his hand ghosting along your collarbone, every movement tight with the things he couldn’t say. He craved you, and it was killing him to pretend he didn’t.

“Prove it,” you say.

He leans in slowly, as if everything is still a joke. But when his lips meet yours warm and slow—it feels like a stab to your chest.

The kiss starts soft.

It doesn't stay that way.

Your legs twitch. His hand slips gently to your waist. You pull off his hoodie, and he smiles gently against your mouth.

“Still not scared?” he murmurs, lips brushing your mandible.

“Shut up,” you responded back, grabbing him again.

His hoodie slips off. Yours comes next. Nothing special. You already know how this works. He throws your shirt off. The tips of his fingers trace the border of your waistband

The smoke still swirls in the air. Everything still smells like weed, perfume, and snacks.

His mouth meets yours again. Impatient. A bit familiar.

This is how it has always been–hot, hungry, and temporary.

Nobody knows about this.

And that is the fun of it.

[clouji]

No Note Today?

+ fluff, barista!reader x hamzah, pt 2

He walked in as if he had been coming here for years, but the fact that you had never seen him before. Black hoodie, camo cap, messy soft curly hair, tired boba eyes, and a smile that increases your oxytocin levels. He got his favorite coffee and sat in his usual spot, in the corner by the window, laptop out, headphones in, and stayed there like a glue for hours.

Then he came back. The next day... And the next.... And next, you call it.

For whatever reason, he suddenly become your crush. Not a weird type. Just a happy little crush, the “I giggle when he says hi” or “Is he gonna be here today?” Type of crush.

“Y/N, you’re so obsessed,” your co-worker bestie Chase said randomly as you drew something on the side of his cup before calling out his name.

“I’m not!!!” you said, handing it to him with a practiced smile. “It’s just fun and gives me little motivation.”

He raises a brow. “You deadass wrote, you're someones reason to smile.”

You roll your eyes. “Come on! Just let me be happy, okay?.”

His name is Hamzah... You find it funny that he never mentioned the notes. So you weren't sure if he saw them. But you continued to do it. Every single day, there is a different stupid one, like:

“This is your 4th coffee this week. Blink twice if you’re okay.”

“Can I also scroll thru your ig reels. I'm bored :3.”

That one got a smirk. Your face turned red like crazy and had to go to the back and pretend to restock cups just to recover.

⏭️

Then one Thursday morning, it was a busy day with a lot of customers, and your manager called you to the back to help your new co-worker. You didn't realize you'd handed him his coffee without a note until he was standing near the pickup counter, staring at the plain and boring blank cup.

You were wiping your hands on your apron, grabbed a marker just to write a quick note-

But he raised the cup suddenly and gave you a look. “No note today?”

You just looked at him, not knowing what to say because you're already panicking inside your head, like that Sponge Bob brain office scene (ifykyk).

“Oh, shit. I mean—” you stuttered, rubbing the back of your head. “It was kinda busy and I had to… help my new coworker and fight a dragon and travel to-”

“I was starting to think you don't like me anymore,” he said frowning, casually leaning on the counter.

You gasped. “Wait.... You read them?”

He grinned. “Ofcourse I do. I even kept a few sticky notes.”

Your jaw dropped on the floor. “No freaking way.”

He grabbed inside his laptop bag and pulled out a crumpled piece of colored paper. You could recognize your own handwriting.

“Seriously? You even kept the one where I said 'your hoodie probably smells good'?” You questioned as your voice sounded quiet and awkward.

“It does smell good,” he said. “Wanna find out?”

You thinking... is this flirting? Were you both flirting? Was this real life or just a fever dream- I need Chase to slap me right now!

“I mean, If you don't mind.”

He took a sip from his cup. “But only if I get another note tomorrow.”

You giggle. “I gotchu.”

He turned to walk back to his usual spot, then paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Oh, and by the way—” he said, “you’re not the only one with a crush. Why do you think I come here every single day?”

Chase saw you behind the counter ten minutes later, gripping a marker and spacing out like you just drank a gallon of coffee.

“Did he punch you or something, hello?” He asked, waving his hand infront of your face.

Now you suddenly grab a cookie chip from the counter and slap a sticky note on it, you wrote: “If I write my number on your cup tomorrow, will you actually text me?"

[clouji]

Sonny Angel

you're just supporting your friend's blind boxes addiction

+ one shot, crack, hamzah x reader

You were just running errands. Chilling.

then Mandy sent you a photo:

“THEY RESTOCKED SONNY ANGELS AT THE STORE GO NOW!!!!!!”

She might as well have screamed it. You basically ran as fast as you can.

And now here you are, gasping for air. You're opening the front door of this tiny boutique store that smells vanilla perfumes and expensive candles.

You scan the shelves– and there it is! One Sonny Angel box left. Sitting right at the edge of a display like it’s waiting for you.

You try to reach for it.

So does someone else..

Short, curly, blonde hair and his black hair roots are visible. Too cute, too tall, with glasses sliding down his nose– he looks like trouble, and worse, he knows it. He's already smiling at you as if this is something funny.

“Seriously?” you ask.

“You were slow. That’s on you.”

“Well, I saw it first.”

“Cool, but I grabbed it first.”

“Nuh uh, we touched it at the same time.”

“Which means it’s destiny,” he says, still holding on. “We should share custody.”

You laughed. “Of a blind box?”

“Exactly. You open it. I get visitation rights.”

You try not to laugh. “That’s weird. And cute.”

He shrugs. “It’s a talent.”

You raises a brow. “Are you really into Sonny Angels or are you just trying look mysterious out here?”

He smirks. “Maybe I just like cute things.”

“Are you talking about this figure or yourself?”

“Whichever makes you more interested.”

He still hasn’t let go. Neither have you.

You lean in to his face just slightly. “You let go of the box…”

He raises an eyebrow. “And?”

“I’ll let you take me out for a drink. After I find out which one I get.”

He pauses. Looks at you like you did something crazy, in a good way.

“Okay then.” he says smiling, finally giving it to you.

You grab the box like a victory and turn to leave.

After you purchase and walk to the door, you hear him loudly and smiling through his words,

“IF YOU PULL A RARE ONE, I’M TAKING CREDIT.”

You look back just long enough to smirk.

“YOU’RE PAYING FOR DINNER TOO.”